‘No, Your Majesty,’ answered Gamina. ‘I was born in the mountains north of Romney.’
The Empress nodded, as if this explained everything. ‘Return to your husband, my dear. Your looks are lovely in their exotic fashion.’
As Gamina descended from the dais, the Empress said, ‘Your Highness, a table has been set aside for your party. You will do me the pleasure of dining with us.’
The Prince bowed again and said, ‘We would be honoured, Your Majesty.’
When they were seated at the indicated table, that one closest to the Empress, save one, another courtier appeared and announced, ‘Prince Awari, son of She Who Is Kesh!’ The Prince who had met Erland that afternoon made his entrance from a side door that Erland assumed came from another, different wing of the palace than the one in which his party was housed.
‘If I may advise His Highness,’ came a voice from Erland’s right, and he turned to find that Kafi Abu Harez had insinuated himself between the Prince and Earl James. ‘Her Majesty, may she prosper, considered your potential for discomfort at so many new things and instructed me to sit at your side and answer whatever questions you might have.’
And discover what it is we are curious about, came Gamina’s thoughts.
Erland nodded slightly, and to Kafi it appeared he was merely considering this, but Gamina knew he was agreeing with her. Then the courtier cried, ‘The Princess Sharana!’ Behind Awari came a young woman near Erland’s age from her appearance. Erland felt his breath catch in his throat at sight of the Empress’s granddaughter. In this palace of beautiful women, she was stunning. Her dress was in the fashion of all others he had seen, but like the Empress, she also wore the linen vest, and her allure was heightened by more of her being hidden from view. Her arms and face were the colour of pale almonds, turned golden by the hot Keshian sun. Her hair was cut at the forehead and shoulders, square and without fashion, but she wore a long braid in back, interwoven with gems and gold. Then the courtier shouted, ‘The Princess Sojiana.’
Locklear almost came out of his seat. If the Princess Sharana was loveliness in its first bloom, then her mother, Sojiana, was beauty at its height. A tall woman of athletic stature, she moved like a dancer, each step designed to show her body to maximum advantage. And an exceptional body it was, long-limbed, flat stomach, and ample breasts. She had the look of fullness without hint of fat, of softness over firm muscle. She wore only the white kilt, with a golden girdle rather than the white belt. Around her arms two golden serpents coiled and around her neck she wore a golden torque set with fire opals, all of which set off her dusky tan skin. Her hair was the brown of wine-soaked wood, red as abundant as brown. And from a face as striking as her body, eyes of the most startling green regarded her mother.
‘Gods,’ said Locklear, ‘she is astonishing.’ The desertman concurred. ‘The Princess is conceded among the most beautiful of the trueblood, m’lord Baron.’ There was a guarded tone in his observation.
James looked at Kafi with an odd, questioning expression on his face, but the desertman seemed unwilling to speak. After enduring James’s stare a moment, he took note of Locklear’s rapt attention to the Princess as she came to stand before her mother, and at last said, ‘Lord Locklear, I feel the need to add a note of caution.’ He glanced back at the Princess Sojiana as she reached the dais, and whispered, ‘She is the most dangerous woman in their court after the Empress. And that makes her the second most dangerous woman in this world.’
With a defiant grin, Locklear said, ‘I can well believe that. She is breathtaking. But I think I could rise to the challenge.’
Gamina gave him a dark look at the crude joke, but the desertman forced a smile. ‘She may give you the opportunity. It is said her tastes are … adventuresome.’
James didn’t miss Kafi’s true message, even if Locklear was too enamoured of the woman to listen. James gave Kafi a slight nod of thanks for the warning.
Unlike Awari and Sharana, Sojiana did not simply bow before the Empress and retire to the table set aside for the Imperial family, but she bowed and spoke. ‘Is my mother well?’ she asked in a formal tone.
‘I am well, my daughter. We rule another day in Kesh.’
The Princess bowed and said, ‘Then my prayers are answered.’ She then moved to sit beside her brother and daughter, and the servants entered the hall.
Dishes of remarkable variety were presented one after the other, and Erland had to consider what to try every minute or two. Wines were brought forth, dry and sweet, red and white, the latter chilled by ice brought down from the peaks of the Guardian Mountains.
To the Keshian, Erland said, ‘Tell me, then, why were the Imperial family members last to enter?’
Kafi said, ‘In the strange way we in Kesh do things, those of the least importance enter first, the slaves and servants and minor court officials, who make all ready for the highborn. Then, She Who Is Kesh enters and takes her place upon her dais, then come the others of noble birth or special merit, again in the order of least to most important. You’re the only ranking noble in attendance besides the Imperial family, so you entered just before Prince Awari.’
Erland nodded, then found himself struck by an oddity. ‘That would mean his niece, Sharana, is—’
‘Higher in rank in this court than the Prince,’ finished Kafi, glancing about the room. ‘This is something of a family dispute, my Prince.’
And something he doesn’t wish to speak of here, added Gamina. Erland gave her a glance and she said, I’m not reading his thoughts, Highness. I would not do that with anyone who did not give me permission, but he’s … announcing it. I can’t explain it better, but he is straining not to speak about many things.
Erland let it drop, and began asking questions about the court. Kafi answered in much the same way a bored history teacher might, save when questions could lead him into funny, embarrassing, or scandalous anecdotes. He was revealed to be something of a gossip.
James chose to let the others do most of the speaking, while he sifted through the answers Kafi gave. While the meal continued, he pieced together hints and tantalizing bits of this and that and fitted them into the pattern of what he already knew. Kesh was as complex as an anthill, and it was only the presence of this hill’s queen, the Empress, that maintained order. Factions, old national rivalries, and age-old feuds were facts of Keshian court life, and the Empress kept her Empire intact by playing off one faction against another.
James sipped a fine dry red wine and considered what part they were to play in this drama, for he knew as certain as he knew boots hurt his feet that their presence would be seized upon by someone to further his own political ends. The question would be who would try the seizing and what his motives would be.
To himself, he added, not to mention how such a person would attempt to employ Erland’s presence in court. It was clear that at least one faction in court wanted Erland dead and war between the Kingdom and the Empire. James glanced around the room, and then tasted the dry red wine again. As he savoured it, he considered that he was a stranger in a very strange land and he would quickly have to learn his way around. He let his gaze wander, studying faces here and there and found more than a half-dozen faces studying him in turn.
He sighed. There would be time. He doubted there would be trouble the first night they were in the palace. For if he were in charge of murdering Erland, he would do so when there were more guests to throw off suspicion and the effect of the death would do more to ruin the Empress’s Jubilee. Unless, of course, he amended, it’s the Empress herself who wishes Erland dead.
He instantly dismissed the notion. If the Empress wanted Erland dead, she wouldn’t have sent a band of cutthroats in the desert; she’d have waited until they were someplace quiet and simply had